


Harry's First Year with the Marauders

by thedivinemsem



Series: Harry and Co meet the Marauders [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Good Fred Weasley & George Weasley, M/M, Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29598909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedivinemsem/pseuds/thedivinemsem
Summary: Harry defeats the bad guy, Hermione falls for Ron and Fred departs this plane for the next - that was it, right? Well, if that's you're thinking my readers then I delight in tell you, you are in fact incorrect. In this story Fate, Hope and Time team up to right the wrongs of our author JK (of which all and any recognisable words belong to) and shake the universe just enough to knock things into place - right where they should be. So come along as Harry, Hermione, George and Fred join the Marauders to read all about Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: Harry and Co meet the Marauders [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2174574
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Harry's First Year with the Marauders

This was written 8 years ago, when I was just 17 and starting fanfiction writing...I found the chapter and chose to post it as is before I continue the rest of the story anew.

Lily’s POV

“Mistress Lily, it is time to be getting up now,” I heard a squeaky voice at my side as I reluctantly awoke from my slumber. Becoming more aware of my surroundings, I felt around the bed for my boyfriend of almost three years James Potter, quickly realizing he wasn’t next to me as he had been last night. 

“Mistress Lily, Master James is down in the dining room with Masters Sirius and Remus. He asked me to come get you at 9:00am if you had not risen yet,” said the chirpy voice I had now identified as Molly, the house elf that James told me would help me with anything I needed at Potter Manor. I was more than a little shocked when I had first stayed at James’ mansion and there had been so many house elfs. I didn’t like the idea at all that these little creatures were basically slaves; but then I realised that the Potters paid them, and they worked in shifts, and my conscience was eased.

As Molly led me to the dining room, I smiled, thinking back on this summer. As we had done every summer since James and I had started dating, the four boys and I were spending July and August with James’ family. Usually Peter left after a couple of weeks, so now it was just Remus, Sirius, James and I, and I was very excited, because today I had convinced them to spend some time with me in the Potters’ fabulous library. Well, really I think James had just felt sorry for me and made the other two boys stay with us.n

A half hour later found me and Remus sitting in big arm chairs reading, while James was making a paper plane fly around the room and Sirius was searching through the library for something “fun”. 

“I could’ve been playing Quidditch right now,” Sirius’ voice floated over from behind a shelf.

“Sirius, that stuff outside, that’s called rain,” Remus said as he idly turned a page.

“Your point?” Sirius asked, poking his head around the corner.

Remus and I shared a look as Sirius disappeared once more. A little while later Sirius called out, “James, I thought you guys didn’t have any other Potter relatives.

James looked up and walked over to Sirius’ voice. “Yeah, why?”

“Well, there’s a book called Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone,” he said, causing Remus and I to put down our books and look towards the two boys, who were walking towards us.

Just then a flash of light went through the room and a Sphinx patronus appeared, speaking in a distinctly female voice. 

“My name is Fate, and I’m writing to you along with my brothers Hope and Time. Suffice to say, the future isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Things have gone wrong, and to fix them you four need to read these chronicles of the life of Harry Potter, starting the first year he attended Hogwarts. You mustn't inform Peter Pettigrew of these events, and if anyone appears from the future they are to read the books with you. These two rules must be obeyed, as our world hangs in the balance. No pressure.

Yours sincerely, Fate, Hope and Time”

Everyone simply stared off at the spot the sphinx had just disappeared from. “Well that was interesting,” Remus said.

“Hang on a second,” I said, thinking quickly, “if we’re reading about a boy called Harry Potter, and James doesn’t have any other relatives, that means this boy must be-” I stutter, trailing off, looking wide-eyed at James.

No one says anything, until Sirius shouts, “Jily baby!”

The tension breaks for a second as everyone laughs a little, but I don’t break eye contact with James as he comes over and kneels before me. 

“I was going to do this on your birthday next week, but I think now that it looks like we have a son, I might as well do it now,” he said, taking my hands in his.

“Do what?” I asked quietly, though I bet I had a good idea as to what he was referring to.

“Lily Marie Evans,” he said as he let go of my hands and reached into his pocket for a tell-tale box, “you’ve been my soulmate since I was 11 years old. For nearly two years now you’ve let me show you how much I love you, and I wake up each and every day and think about how lucky I am to have you in my life. I know we’re young, but when I think about my life at 40, or at 80, or at 150, I never fail to see you at my side. So, I ask you today, in front of our two best friends,” he said, sparing a glance at a grinning Sirius and Remus, “will you do my the immeasurable honour of becoming my wife?” he asked, his gold eyes sparkling in that adorable way, his crooked smile lighting up his features.  
I feel my eyes well up with tears. I quickly wiped my eyes as I chuckled. “I can’t believe I waited all those years before going out with you!” I said, semi-hysterically. All the boys chuckled a bit at that one. 

“Is that a yes?” James asked me, smiling a little wider.

“Of course it is, you big dummy!” I said, pushing his shoulder affectionately, “now let’s see this ring.”

He laughed, leaning up to kiss me quickly, before opening the box, and showing me a gorgeous emerald on a gold band, surrounded by diamonds. As he slipped it on my finger he said to me, “you know, this belonged to my grandmother. The first time I came home and told them you had said yes, she gave me this and told me to give it to the special woman who held my heart. And that woman will always be you.”

“Come here you!” I said, standing and gripping James in a warm embrace, knowing I never wanted to let go.

“OK you two, why don’t we start reading now?” Remus asked laughing as he clapped James on the back and gave me a kiss on the cheek, Sirius following his lead.

“Future Mrs. Potter, do you want to do the honours?” Sirius asked, holding the book out to me as I sat back in my armchair, sitting in James’ lap.

“Only because you hate reading,” I said, rolling my eyes at him, “but yes, I shall.”

I cleared my throat and began. “CHAPTER ONE : THE BOY WHO LIVED”

“Well doesn’t that sound ominous,” Sirius said, smirking.

“Are you going to comment the whole way through?” I asked, raising my eyebrow quizzically.

“Probably,” he said with a shrug. I decided to overlook this; it was simply another of Sirius’ many mischievous traits.

But before I could continue, yet another flash of light exploded in the middle of the room. “I’m really getting tired of this,” Sirius said loudly.

When the light cleared we were able to see two teenagers around our age standing together, arms wrapped around one another. The girl I had never seen before, but the boy was the spitting image of James, except he had my eyes. That meant one thing.

“It can’t be possible!” Remus gasped, probably reaching the same point I had.

“Hermione, are you ok?” the boy in question asked his partner, running his hands over her face, looking worried.

“I’m fine Harry,” she said nodding, hugging him to her.

“Uh, ‘scuse us, random people who we assume are from the future, could you tell us who you are?” Sirius asked, beaming like this was a totally normal situation.

Harry and Hermione looked at everyone, and boy did they look surprised. 

“This cannot be happening,” I heard Harry whisper to Hermione.

The awkward feeling continued for another couple of seconds, before I walked up to Harry and smiled at him, giving him a hug. “Well, don’t I make good looking children,” I said as I pulled back.

“Hey, what about me?” James asked, sounding insulted.

“Please, what exactly did you do in the child making process?” I asked, shooting him a gaze.

“Look, if you are Death Eaters, trying to avenge your bloodthirsty monster of a leader,” Hermione said, starting off shaky, but sounding more confident as she went, standing protectively in front of Harry, “then this won’t work. We have been through too damn much for this shit!”

“Damn if the Potter men don’t have good taste in women,” Sirius said to Remus.

“Mione, I don’t think this is a trap,” Harry said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “I have the feeling.”

Apparently noticing the emphasis on the ‘the’ as well, Hermione immediately relaxed into Harry’s arms. He shared a smile with her before stepping forward and hugging me to him. I was a little surprised at first, but then I realised this was probably my son from the future, and a sudden indescribable instinct welled up within me, causing me to move my arms to circle his form and hug him back.

“Harry, my baby,” I whispered, hugging him tight.

“Mum, you know who I am?” he asked, confused, as he pulled back. 

“I do,” I said, smiling at him, “I actually think we’re about to read about your first year at Hogwarts.”  
Harry and Hermione shared a look. “So you four don’t know what’s happened during my life?” he asked, somewhat cautiously.

“No,” Remus said, “should we know something?”

Again a look was shared between Harry and Hermione. “I think we should all begin reading, and discuss events when we come to them,” Hermione said slowly, tugging Harry’s hand over to a chair. Everyone settled, though there was a tense air in the room, and I began to read.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.”

“Dursley, that’s the last name of my sister’s boyfriend” I exclaimed, “this is definitely talking about us James!” I said, looking over my shoulder at my equally surprised fiancee.

“Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors.”

“Oh, if that isn’t an accurate description, I don’t know what is,” I said, giggling.

“I think I remember Dursley,” James said, “looks like a rhino on pepper up potion.”

“Oh definitely,” Harry said, laughing.

“The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.”

“That’s their opinion,” Hermione said haughtily.

“The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.”

At this point I snorted, and looked at everyone trying not to laugh. “Trust me, being unDursleyish is a very good thing,” I said.

“I think we should meet this Dursley fellow,” Sirius said, a faraway look in his eyes.  
“I do believe you’re right Sirius,” Remus said.

“As long as I get to be there when you do,” Harry said, grinning, “I could use a good laugh.”

“The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street.” 

“Well, it sounds like a plan,” Sirius said, grinning evilly.

“The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.”

“You probably did Dudley a world of good,” Hermione grumbled. 

“He turned out alright towards the end,” Harry said, nudging her with his shoulder.

“So we did end up introducing you to Petunia?” I asked Harry, to which he and Hermione shared a look. 

“You...could say that,” Harry answered, but he refused to say any more on the subject, so I let it drop. I assumed it would come up in the book, and he wasn’t speaking for a reason. 

“When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, -”

“They just sounds so happy, don’t they?” Sirius asked, rolling his eyes. 

“Trust me, Vernon Dursley finds happiness when other people are bored or unhappy,” I said, shrugging. 

“-and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window. At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley goodbye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.”

“Is it strange I don’t sympathise with Petunia?” I asked, smiling a little. 

“After having lived with her, not at all,” Harry said.

“"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.  
It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a cat reading a map. “

“Five galleons says that’s Minnie!” Sirius cried out.

“Sirius, Professor McGonagall is not the only feline animagus in Britain,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. 

“I’ll take that bet, Sirius,” James said, laughing, “I’m with Remus on this one.”

“Oh the horror, Jamsie old boy!” Sirius cried out, dramatically, “and I’ll have you all know that my belief has nothing to do with the fact that Minnie is the only cat animagus I know of. Nothing at all.”

“He grows on you,” I told Hermione, who was just staring at Sirius, “you know, eventually.”

She smiled at me. “Tell me about it. I still remember the first time I met Sirius. Wasn’t what you would call joyful,” she said, leaning back into Harry as the boys stopped talking about whether the cat was Professor McGonagall. 

“For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat-”

“It has to be Minnie!” Sirius said.

“Sirius, shut up,” hermione said, glaring a little at him. He shrunk back, and I shared a look of respect with her. We women had to stick together. 

“-standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive — no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs.”

“Unless they’re animagi,” Sirius said, attempting a wise voice.

“We know that Padfoot,” Harry said, laughing at him. Sirius just poked his tongue at harry, before all the boys looked at Harry and Hermione, eyes wide.

“How do you know that name?” Sirius demanded.

Hermione and Harry shared a grin. “Well, after I learned Remus was a werewolf-” Hermione began.

“-and I found out about the Marauder’s Map-” Harry said, sharing a look with Hermione.

“-of course we figured out your names-” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. 

“-because we knew your animagus forms as well,” Harry finished, smiling smugly at the three boys.

It was all I could do to stop myself from bursting out laughing as Remus chuckled, looking at a gobsmacked James and Sirius, “well, they’ve got you beat. You two were together, but you were never that in sync.”

“We’ve always been like this,” hermione said with a shrug, “but I have to admit, the Weasley twins have us beat.”

At that moment a note floated down to settle in front of Harry. “Time has informed me that to speed this process along somewhat, it would be prudent that each person in the room gets to ask one question of Harry. Harry must answer to the best of his ability, and that means everything, young man. Cheers, Fate,” Harry said, rolling his eyes towards the end.

“She hasn’t changed at all,” he said, and when everyone looked at him strangely he elaborated, “I met Fate several times throughout Hogwarts, though I’m not sure if we’ll read about that throughout the books. So, go ahead, ask away.”

Everyone shared looks, wondering what to ask. “Do I have children in the future?” Remus asked, almost nervously.

Harry smiled at that question. “You do, and before you ask, you didn’t pass on any side effects of your lycanthropy, you had him checked out at birth. His name is Teddy Remus Lupin.”

Remus nodded, seemingly satisfied, and Hermione went next. “Why don’t you want me to be with Ron?” she asked, a strange lilt to her voice.

Harry looked truly surprised at this. “Why wouldn’t I want you to be with Ron?” he asked, trying to sound confused, I think, but I have a feeling he was lying. 

Harry scratched his head, looking anywhere but at Hermione. Finally he sighed, and looked back at her, making eye contact as the rest of us sat by and watched, captivated by the tension. “Ron isn’t good enough for you,” Harry said at last, “in fact, he’s completely wrong. He is an idiot who insults you at every turn. He doesn’t understand how beautiful you are, or how smart you can be. He doesn’t know about your bravery, and your loyalty.” Harry took a breath here, looking at Hermione with such honesty in his eyes, it brought me to tears. James looked so proud of Harry, that it took my breath away.

“I honestly don’t think anyone will ever be good enough, but there is definitely someone better than Ron,” he said, leaning away and breaking eye contact with Hermione to place his arms on his knees and put his forehead i his hands.

I made eye contact with Sirius and Remus, who looked to be waiting with baited breath for something to happen, hoping it went in Harry’s favour.

Hermione wiped her eyes, and reached out to Harry. “Oh Harry, you silly, silly man! I only pretended to have an interest in Ron so you could notice me!”

Harry turned to Hermione, and his whole face simply lit up. He leaned forward and captured Hermione’s lips with his own, and a small ‘aww’ escaped my lips. Suddenly a golden light enveloped them, and they broke apart in confusion. Everyone just looked around, feeling very confused. 

Remus and I, however, were looking at each other with mouths wide open. “it can’t be!” I gasped.

“What else could that have been?” Remus asked. 

“Wait, what is with all these glowing lights?!” Sirius asked. 

“Trust us, we’ll explain everything at the end of the chapter,” I said, “it’s too much to go into now.”

“OK, so, my question is next then,” sirius said, leaning back and smirking, “how many rules have you broken at Hogwarts?”

Harry and Hermione shared a grin and Harry said to Sirius, “every single one.”

Sirius stared, gobsmacked. “Even the one about entering other common rooms?” 

“Oh yeah,” Harry said, a purely evil grin on his face, “and there’s no way I’m telling you how to as well.”

“That’s cruel Pup,” Sirius said, holding a hand over his heart, “as your favourite Godfather, I have the right to know.”

“Favourite?” Remus asked incredulously, only Sirius ignored him.

“A true prankster would be able to find it himself,” Hermione said to Harry, though we all knew she was talking to Sirius, “I’m just saying.”

“Do you play Quidditch?” James asks.  
“I’m the Seeker for the Gryffindor team,” Harry said, bumping fists with James, “joined my first year.”

“You know, I think Harry’s actually cooler than the two of you combined,” Remus said with a grin. 

“OK, my turn, then we continue reading,” I said, re-adjusting my position in James’ lap, “what were your scores on your O.W.L.s?” I asked, staring intensely at him.

Hermione laughed and Harry grinned. “You are so like my Hermione (Hermione grinning when she heard the “my”) that it’s scary. I’m pretty sure I got E’s in everything except for Divination and History of Magic, which I didn’t pass, Astronomy, where I got an A and DADA where I got an O.”

“Oh, an O!” I said, clapping happily, “I’m so proud, even if you didn’t pass History of Magic and Divination, the latter of which is a completely useless subject, I assure you.”

“I completely agree,” said Hermione.

“Well, that’s everyone,” Remus said, “go on Lils.”

“Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day. But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks.”

“That’s strange,” Remus said, “usually the Ministry of Magic keeps a tighter rein on that.”

“Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak!”

“I happen to love the colour emerald,” Hermione said cheekily, pecking Harry on the lips.

“Oh great, now we have two of them,” Sirius said dramatically.

“The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt —these people were obviously collecting for something…yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.  
Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning.”  
“I don’t know how he concentrates on drills at all!” James said, looking confused.

“It doesn’t seem like a very exciting career path,” I agreed.

“Personally, it’s the Auror force for me,” James said, puffing out his chest a tad with pride, Sirius and Remus agreeing with him.

“I considered that as well,” Harry said, “but then I thought about teaching Defence.”

“I’m so proud of you Harry,” Hermione said, grasping his hand, “me, I’ve always wanted to go into the Ministry, and work on changing laws regarding magical creatures, like Werewolves for example,” she said laughing, winking at Remus who sent her a grin. 

“I always wanted to be a Healer,” I said. 

“He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. “

“I don’t know how you lived with him for so long, Harry, I really don’t,” Hermione said, shaking her head.

“It wasn’t without effort, I assure you,” Harry said, laughing.

“He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.”

“Because, you know, he’s done so much hard work,” Sirius said dryly.

“He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard —"

"—yes, their son, Harry —"

“I have a bad feeling about this,” James mumbled from behind me. 

“I know,” I agreed, “so do I.”

“It can’t be too bad,” Sirius said, trying to placate us. 

“Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.”

“The mere thought of being related to us must’ve been absolutely horrible,” I said sarcastically. 

“It probably was,” James said, “from the way he sounds in this book, he hasn’t changed much from the last time we met.”

“I still can’t believe you’d bring Harry to meet them,” Remus said, shaking his head.

I wondered what the look that Harry sent Hermione was about.

“He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache-”

Sirius just snickered.

“-thinking…no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold.”

“Like I’d let you name my son Harold, or Harvey,” I snorted, “just like Sirius is not going to be his only Godparent.”

“And why not?” Sirius asked in a slight outrage.

“Because I’m the responsible one,” Remus said smugly.

“That does make sense,” james said contemplatively. 

Sirius gasped. “You’ve turned on me, you’ve all turned on me.”

“Don’t worry Sirius, we still love you,” hermione said laughing, indicating her and Harry.

“Thank you!” Sirius said, still giving us the angry eyes.

“There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her — if he'd had a sister like that…but all the same, those people in cloaks… He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door. "Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak.”

“Probably isn’t so sorry now, the big walrus,” Harry said.

“He really has an unfavourable view of all things magic, doesn’t he?” Remus asked, apparently in wonder.

“Well, from what I know of the man, it seems he doesn’t like anything that has the possibility of being abnormal,” Hermione, frowning, “and that includes magic.”

“He’s ignorant about our ways, and ignorance breeds fear,” I explained, “it’s basically a lost cause.”

“He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"

“You-Know-Who is gone?” Remus asked, shocked.

I quickly looked at Harry and Hermione and saw them nod, though I could tell they were still hiding something. 

“Well at least the future’s looking a little brighter now,” Sirius said, smiling, and I made myself smile back with James and Remus, even though I felt a tug at the bottom of my stomach.

“And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off. Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.”

“Oh no, imagination!” Sirius cried out, standing and holding his hand to his forehead. “Help me James! get it away from me!” He said, throwing himself at our feet.

James just laughed from behind me. “Suck it up mate.”

Sirius got up, shaking his head. “Figures. I wonder what you would do if I was actually dying.”  
“I would try and save you, dumbass,” James said, laughing, “but only after I was made the beneficiary in your will, in case you didn’t make it.”

“Thanks Prongs, you’re all heart,” Sirius said sarcastically.

“As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw—and it didn't improve his mood — was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.”

“Markings; that’s gotta be McGonagall!” Sirius cried out, “they’re her spectacles.”

"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.

“Oh wouldn’t you love to be able to do that to Minnie,” Remus grinned. 

“Yeah, but I love my life just a little more,” Harry said, laughing.

“The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.”

“The recipe for any successful marriage; lying,” James said. I turned around and raised an eyebrow at him. “But of course, that won’t happen in ours,” he said, changing track and shaking his head rapidly. 

“Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: "And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. “

“Something’s happened, something big,” Remus muttered, his brow furrowing.

I once again glanced at Hermione and Harry’s stoic expressions.

“Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?" 

"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early — it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

“Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…”

“This is bad, I can feel it James,” I said, looking at James as I chewed my lip, “I have my gut feeling.”

James’ expression changed immediately; my feelings were never questioned. I saw him exchange a look with Sirius and Remus, who shared his expression. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing you can tell us?” Remus asked.

Harry and Hermione shared a look that seemed to convey a thousand words. Finally, Harry answered. “I think that’s it best to leave the explanation to the book. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er — Petunia, dear — you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?" As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.”

“Bitch,” Hermione said, and I couldn’t help but grin at her, because I could already tell that swearing wasn’t a big part of her behaviour. 

“What?” she asked, raising her hands when everyone looked at her, amazed, “there’s no way she’s going to talk about Mum that way!” I teared up and sent her a grateful smile.

“I am very lucky then to have a daughter that defends me so well,” I said and we shared a grin.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls…shooting stars…and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…"

"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.

"Well, I just thought…maybe…it was something to do with…you know…her crowd."

Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, “ Their son — he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.

"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"

"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

“Harry is an excellent name,” I said, interrupting myself, “I always wanted to name my child Harry.”

“I always wanted a James Junior,” James said, shrugging.

“Let’s be honest Prongs; that was never going to happen,” Sirius said, grinning.

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there.”

“Wouldn’t it be cool if Minnie changed in front of him?” Siriu said, cackling semi-madly.

“Sirius, it may not be her,” Remus said, shaking his head.

“You willing to put money on that, Moony?” Sirius asked with a smirk. 

Remus pondered that for a moment. “Three galleons says it isn’t Minnie,” he said finally. 

Sirius grinned, shaking his hand. “I feel bad taking your money like this, man.”

“It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something. Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did…if it got out that they were related to a pair of — well, he didn't think he could bear it. “

“I’m really going to enjoy meeting your family, Lils,” Sirius said, sharing a downright evil grin with Remus and James.

“The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley.”

“Well, apart from revenge - revenge is a pretty big thing,” Sirius said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind…He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on — he yawned and turned over —it couldn't affect them…”

“I’m going to enjoy this particular expedition of revenge,” Remus said, fist bumping Sirius. 

“How very wrong he was. Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.”

“Well, it’s definitely an animagus,” I said.

“A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.”

“Money, money, money, always funny!” Sirius sang under his breath. 

“Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice.”

“DUMBLEDORE!” several of the boys shouted at once.

“This man's name was Albus Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” I said, letting out a small giggle. 

“Mum,” Hermione said, looking unbelievably sad, “I think it’s best if I read from now.” She held out her hand for the book, and everyone bar Harry looked confused. 

“Trust her Mum,” Harry chimed in, “I would read myself, but there’s something coming up shortly that’s going to be very hard for all of us to listen to.”

Hesitantly I handed her the book, before nudging James over so we were sitting side by side on the big armchair. I nestled into his shoulder as he placed an arm around me.

“He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known." He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again — the next lamp flickered into darkness.”

“Damn if that wouldn’t be handy during pranks!” Sirius exclaimed.

“Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

“YES!” Sirius actually stood up out of his chair and did a victory dance, swinging his arms around in circles above his head and cheering and whooping, “pay up Prongs old boy!” He held his hand out expectantly as James reluctantly reached into his pocket.

“He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. "How did you know it was me?" she asked.”

“No other cat would sit so stiffly,” James said, snickering. 

Hermione laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll see why in a second.”

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

Everyone else laughed as well.

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.  
“Does she ever sniff in another way?” Sirius asked, laughing.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls…shooting stars…Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

Everyone snickered at that, as it was obvious to anyone that had met Dedalus, that this was very likely. 

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

“Eleven years,” Remus said, and I could see him counting in his head, “Voldemort has been around for nine years. This happens in two years!” he cries out, looking wide-eyed and slightly alarmed at Hermione and Harry, who just nod grimly.

“I have a really bad feeling about this,” Sirius said, joy completely gone from his face.

“I’ve had a bad feeling all chapter,” I grumbled, leaning into James’ side.

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors." She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared -”

Complete silence met this remark before everyone jumped up and cheered, except for Hermione and Harry, who, if possible, looked even sadder than before. 

“Hang on a second,” Remus said, apparently catching on to what I already had, “why aren’t you two celebrating? At what cost do we no longer live under Voldemort’s reign?”

“You’ll know soon enough,” Harry said, sounding absolutely miserable. 

“-at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

A kind of nervous laugh went throughout the group. “Dumbledore did always love his lemon drops,” Hermione said, her eyes watering. What had happened in the future?

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone—"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this ‘You-Know-Who' nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. “

“Dumbledore notices everything,” James said, “he just chose not to comment. He’s very sneaky that way.”

"It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

“Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself,” everyone in the room recited, sharing a small smile.

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

“Damn straight,” James muttered.

“‘Ain’t that the truth?” Sirius asked, shaking his head.

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

“That’s because Albus is just too noble,” I said.

"Only because you're too — well —noble to use them."

“Now who’s like Minnie?” James asked, poking his tongue at me.

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

“I can only imagine how that conversation ended,” Sirius said, a not so subtle wink accompanying his words.

“Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

The four of us from the past waited with breaths held to see what had finally stopped Voldemort.

“It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true.” 

“It must be really bad,” James said, shaking his head.

“Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters.”

I saw Harry’s and Hermione eyes pool with tears and I had a suspicious feeling about where this was going. I shared a scared look with James.

“The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — dead."

I couldn’t hold it in any more, and I burst into tears. I felt James hug me too him, and I could feel his tears wetting my hair as we clung to each other. I looked up to see Harry crying into Hermione’s shoulder as she slowly rubbed circles into his back. Remus looked devastated and Sirius simply shook his head as if he didn’t believe it. 

I couldn’t take it; seeing Sirius in tears was the last straw. I stood and walked over to Sirius and engulfed him in a hug, our tears mingling together. My head came up to see Remus and James in a similar embrace, and we all came together in a big group hug. 

When I saw Harry looking utterly upset, my heart broke into a million more pieces, and I brought him and Hermione into our group hug. It was a couple more minutes before we were all composed enough to continue reading. 

“We’re going to change the future,” harry said with conviction, “I haven’t fought this hard to give up now.” I sniffled as I looked at my son, eyes watering, with nothing but love and pride.

“Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James…I can't believe it…I didn't want to believe it…Oh, Albus…"

“I knew she always liked me the most,” James said, trying to lighten the mood.

“In your dreams Prongs,” Sirius said, grinning weakly.

“I don’t know why you two even entertain the thought that I’m not her favourite,” Remus said, rolling his eyes before sharing a smile with his friends.

“Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know…I know…"he said heavily.  
Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke — and that's why he's gone."

“You destroyed Voldemort,” I said, looking in wonder at Harry, along with the others from the past.

Harry sent me a smile. “We destroyed Voldemort,” he said, “I’m not sure when you’ll read this, but when Voldemort found us, if you and Dad hadn’t been willing to sacrifice yourselves for me, then I never could have survived, and Voldemort never would have died. It was you guys.”

I hugged James, whispering how much I loved him, and thinking how lucky I was to have a man that loved his son so much. 

“Dumbledore nodded glumly. "It's— it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done…all the people he's killed…he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding…of all the things to stop him…but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?” 

"We can only guess." said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

“Dumbledore knows,” Sirius said immediately, “that’s his ‘I’m lying for the greater good’ standby”

“Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

“Wait, why are they leaving you with Petunia?” I asked, bewildered.

“Yeah, why aren’t we getting you?” Sirius asked, gesturing to himself and Remus.

“It’ll all be explained,” Harry assured us, “though I doubt you’ll like it.”  
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

“NO!” I yelled, actually jumping out of the chair.

“Lily, calm down-” James said, trying to calm me down.

“No James, you don’t understand!” I said, shaking his hand off, “Petunia hates magic, she despises it.” I turned and looked at Harry. “What did she do to you? I asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

“It’s in the past, I don’t like to talk about it,” Harry said, uncomfortably. “it’s enough that the five of you are going to hear this, I don’t want to explain.”

Five of us? he hadn’t even told Hermione?

"You don't mean – you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore — you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son — I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

“There have got to be better places,” Remus said, shaking his head, “even if we can’t look after him, there’s gotta be somewhere, someone even, that will take him in.”

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

“A LETTER?!” I exploded, anger pouring out of every inch of my body as James tried to calm me down.

“Mum, Dumbledore made mistake,” Harry said to me once I was sitting down again, “we all have. I realised a short time ago there’s no use getting angry at things that have already happened. You need to wand up and deal with the consequences.”

There was silence before, of course, Sirius broke it. “Wand up, I like it,” he said as he and Harry bumped fists.

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous — a legend — I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future-”  
“Wouldn’t that be funny Harry?” Hermione asked, laughing.

Harry grinned as well. “The twins would bring out a whole new line of merchandise.”

“— there will be books written about Harry — every child in our world will know his name!"

“That one did happen,” Harry said, causing the boys to laugh.

“It was horrible,” Hermione said, “they either idolized him for things they didn't know about or understand, or hated him for things he didn’t do!”

“Ah, the life of a celebrity,” Sirius said.

"Exactly." said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

“I don’t hate the upbringing I had,” harry said slowly, as if trying to put his feelings into words, “I wish it had been better, but it could’ve been worse.”

“How?” Hermione asked, glaring slightly at Harry, “I don’t know everything, but what I do know is really bad.”

“Because I’m alive, I have family, friends and a beautiful girlfriend,” here he kissed Hermione sweetly on the cheek, “and Voldemort is gone, allowing me and my family to live in peace. That’s why, Mione.”

“Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes — yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

“It wouldn’t surprise me in the least,” Remus said, chuckling.

"Hagrid's bringing him."

“I’m sure that went over well with the Professor,” I said, laughing. 

"You think it —wise—to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

“So would I,” Sirius agreed, “secrets, probably not, but my life, sure.” Everyone just laughed at him.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to — what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

“Wouldn’t that be cool to own?” Sirius asked, stars in his eyes.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild—long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. 

“I have very rarely heard such an accurate description of Hagrid,” James said, laughing.

In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets. "Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

“Hang on a second,” Sirius said, holding up his hand, “if I’m well enough to give Hagrid my bike, why can’t I take Harry?”

Harry grimaced. “You’re not going to like this, but I really had to go to the Dursleys. It was for my protection, and it did protect me, in the end.”

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir — house was almost destroyed-”

I cringed a little when I heard this. 

“-but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol." Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

Harry lifted up his hair, probably used to doing so, I would assume. There it was, a lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

“At least it looks cool,” Sirius said, trying to put a positive light on it. 

“It is,” Harry agreed, “until people start staring and whispering and such. Then it’s annoying.”

"Is that where —?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground.”

“Because Dumbledore frequented the London Underground so often,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. 

“Well — give him here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with." Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house. "Could I — could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

“At least he has Hagrid,” I said, sharing a smile with Harry. 

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it —Lily an' James dead — an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles —"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep-”

“He won’t even wake them uP?!” I hissed angrily. 

“-took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

“Well, at least he didn’t want to leave you there,” James said, trying to put a positive spin on the news, showing again why I loved him. 

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night. "I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.”

Here I couldn’t help it and burst into tears all over again. 

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.  
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up.”

“Very little can disrupt Harry in his sleep,” Hermione said, grinning at Harry, who just blushed.

“And how would you know that, Mione?” Sirius asked. 

Hermione just winked, causing Harry to laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley…” 

“Say what you will Harry,” Hermione said, shaking her head, “but Dudley was rotten.”

“He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"

Hermione marked the page and set the book down on the small coffee table. Everyone sighed collectively, and we all wondered what to do next, until James stood up and said, “I think it’s a good idea if we convene to the kitchen. We can get some coffee or tea, whichever everyone prefers, and we can discuss what the glow surrounding Harry and Hermione was.” And with that, everyone stood, still in a state of shock at what we had just learnt.


End file.
